


The Stuffed Royal

by toofaryet



Category: Original Work
Genre: Belly Kink, Farting, M/M, Stuffing, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:15:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21992038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toofaryet/pseuds/toofaryet
Summary: A short fic I plan to continue off of, to introduce a bit about Gunther and Kala.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 21





	The Stuffed Royal

Gunther is the son of a majorly revered government official -- Malleena. Her status has put pressure on Gunther since the moment he was born. In fact, Malleena wanted him to don her title of Grand Executioner when she retired. This would not be so simple.

Mainly because he is a nineteen year old that lacks dexterity and focus. He is lazy, irreverent, rude, and can be described as many other things of that sort. Attempts have been made to train him to fight and be more proper since he was seven years old. And yet he doesn't change, as if something holds him back. Today made all of this even more clear.

He was poutily trudging to his bedroom, before softly closing the lavish door and approaching his bed. His bedsheets are rather stained and unkempt because of his own laziness. All he wanted to do was eat some shrimp in buttery noodles with some frothy beer to drink. It had been a long day he felt he deserved it. That is, until his mother's voice rang in his mind. "And again, you fail me. I had such low expectations for you this time. They were coordinated utterly fairly in order to see to it you could reach them," her near-exact words pierced him.

He was now laying in his bed and staring longingly out the window. Why couldn't he choose his own path, instead of being an executioner? Cooking always sounded like a good choice for him. Or bartending. Before he could melt any further into these hypothetical careers, a soft knock at his door made him jolt up. "Yeah?" he called awkwardly, feeling himself spike with anxiety of the potential pain a social interaction could bring for him right now. 

"It's Kala," the deep voice replied in a muffle from behind the door, bringing a wave of relief to Gunther that steadied his breathing.

"Come in," Gunther suggested, leaning against his headboard and sitting up. The door swung open to reveal his tan and tired looking friend. 

"As your bodyguard," Kala bashfully prefaced, "I thought you might need some food." Kala then slowly walked over to the bed, holding a towering plate of perfectly-textured noodles, oily vegetables, and salty seafood delicacies. Besides all of the food, there was an iced glass of whiskey, near the glass bottle that had about half remaining.

Gunther was staring stupidly at the ensemble of delicious food items before bringing his grateful gaze to meet Kala's stoney one. "Thanks, Kala," was all Gunther said, but the softness of his words still teased at Kala's heart.

"The broccoli may be too greasy. I am sorry," Kala meekly added as he handed off the tray of food plates and silverware.

Instead of complaining, Gunther grinned at Kala only to admit, "Hey, I like the vegetables to be really greasy."

And with that, Kala began to walk away. But he so wished to be able to be there with Gunther while he ate.  
***

Later that night, Gunther came waddling out of his room into the castle hallway, wielding an empty tray. His breathing was uneven and hindered by his stuffed and swollen belly. Begrudgingly he continued to move towards the kitchen at the end of the hall. As he grew nearer, voices became audible in the kitchen.

"Someone made the food meant for the feast tonight," one chef exclaimed furiously, digging through the contents of the kitchen cabinets and freezer room. 

This information made Gunther's eyes widen and heart beat a bit with guilt. He would've turned to leave if he hadn't heard the following voice.

"Yes, that was… me," the voice that could only be Kala's shamefully mumbled.

"Who are you --OURP! Who are you kidding? That was me!" Gunther yelled, pouncing into the kitchen and between the chefs.

One of the maids nearby rolled her eyes. This behavior wouldn't necessarily be unheard of for Gunther, so she believed it. "It is the son of Mallena, Sir Gunther." 

"That's… right…" Gunther breathed, squirming a bit to try and not hurt his aching stomach anymore. It groaned and gurgled as he writhed in place.

Kala looked over to Gunther with a look of appreciation in his eyes. Although the rest of his face remained completely unmoved; Kala had a bit of an eternal scowl going on. Their romantic stare didn't stay for long, though, as Gunther quickly brought a fist to his mouth to stifle a short, wet belch. It sounded like it hurt him a bit to release.

"Well, we can't do anything to him," the chef who'd originally uncovered the predicament acknowledged. 

"oooURP! Guess ya can't!" Gunther said with a smug expression, and humorously prideful tone. He dropped his dishes off at the counter, and started his journey back to his bedroom. Soon after, Kala strode to his side, and put a warm hand on Gunther's shoulder to alert him of his presence. "*Hic*... Kala?" he cutely hiccuped, doing his best not to burp in Kala's direction. 

"Mhm, prince, let's get you to your bed," Kala said lowly in a matter-of-fact way. He then used his other hand to peacefully rub Gunther's upset tummy, his hand making contact with the risen flesh under Gunther's shirt. But doing this immediately coaxed a large, unholy belch from Gunther.

"Did you call me -URP!" Gunther tried to say before unleashing a loud but quick burp. Kala's face grew warm with embarrassment. 

He did not answer the question. Instead he dodged it by conveniently announcing, "We're here." And inside they went. Kala ushered the slightly drunken and definitely sickly man to his bed, laying him down gently.

"Kalaaaa…" Gunther whined babyishly, rolling around on his stomach as it sizzled with the threat of oncoming gas.

"Mmm?" Kala wordlessly responded.

"You… you protect me, so I protected you," he laughed immaturely, before letting out a low growling burp. Kala felt annoyed as much as he did in love, but he simply patted Gunther on the stomach and rolled his palm around the belly button. _He didn't protect me from anything. I chose to endanger myself to please him, and conveniently, he appeared. I would have been fine,_ Kala thought coldly, feeling that the sentiment was shallow.

"Oh no," Gunther heaved before holding his breath. Burbles of liquid and sloshing stomach acid were audible. Suddenly, he let out a rippling fart that seemed to paint the air. It lasted a good four seconds before he exhaled in pleasure, and he added a small burp for good measure. He then closed his eyes and turned himself to face the window. He would sleep this way, while his guardian watched over his body.

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh I suck--


End file.
